


...And this eagle flew away

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Magic exist in the contemporary but is not everywhere or in everyone, Magical Accidents, Magical Realism, Magical Tattoos, Oohira knows poetry, Pining, Tendou is not helpful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: The ever observant Ushijima would of course notice a blotch on someone's skin. What he doesn't notice, nor understands at first, are his feelings for that special someone.In which Goshiki has a magical moving tattoo that causes all sorts of problems; it misbehaves, it flies away, it intrigues Goshiki's crush, Ushijima. But when the little eagle takes flight, so does the hope for love.





	...And this eagle flew away

**Author's Note:**

> Uughhhhh I just. love magical tattoos so much??? Ever since wtnv and the headcanons of Cecil's living/moving/thinking ink I couldn't shake the ideas out of my brain.
> 
> In his head, Ushijima regards everyone by their first name, because it felt more natural to me, except the second years. I think the people he's known for so long are familiar to him so he'd regard them by first name. 
> 
> Tbh Ushigoshi just heals my soul. I love them so much. I've had this fic lying around foreeeeveeeer and recently finished writing as I listened to Florence + the Machine’s ‘never let me go’.
> 
> I really wanted to find a beta for this fic but... all my friends are busy or have other fics from me to look over ;; Also, I felt like it doesn't really matter. I just keep all my wips around and even after beta-ing or reading it through 10x, I find mistakes in the published work (yes I tried printing it out, different font, text size).
> 
> BUT STILL!!! I love ushigoshi with all my heart and I hope whoever likes them too and reads this fic, will forgive the many mistakes that might hide there... I did my best ;v; Please enjoy reading!!!

Wakatoshi doesn't like unsurety. Facts were superior, the harder the better. Clean data. Not so much interpretation or having to voice his thoughts. He doesn't ask questions, while he'd never mind answering them. Simplicity rings in his bones, coded in his DNA, made up his whole being. Never too loud in his voice, or too obnoxious in his moves, he carries himself in an easy way through life. 

Never knew he'd be searching for... this.

He's dressed in his uniform, putting the shirt under the waistband of his pants, when he sees a black dot flickering out of sight. He could blame it on how his head is turned, or how the light hits this side of the building in the afternoon. Wakatoshi could turn and leave, forget all about it. Focus on the warming up, making sure everyone in his team is in top condition, or on their way to get there. What his brain doesn't need, he eliminates. Every little thing included.

But there was a dot of black ink on Tsutomu's elbow, and it's gone under his shirt. Finding himself staring, Wakatoshi forces his head to turn. Keeps on turning when Satori asks about today's team, if he had played anyone in there before. Wakatoshi answers in the negative, let's himself be distracted by Satori's flow of words, his inquisitive chatter. Satori drags himself out after Eita and Kawanishi, cracking jokes Wakatoshi doesn't understand. He can only classify them as jokes because of Satori's changed attitude and level of voice, by the sound of Eita's laugh and Kawanishi's silent chuckle.

When he looks back at Tsutomu, the younger man hits his own face, making his cheeks red from the impact. As he rushes out of the room, he yells out his readiness to engage in practice. Reon is unable to stop him, and sighs, arm reaching for the empty doorway.

Wakatoshi looks after him, quite sure he saw a black line peaking out under the collar of Tsutomu's neck-line. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Sweat runs down his neck and back, but Wakatoshi doesn't feel his stamina levels lowering. He's in good form, and so is the rest of the team. The practice match has been good in terms that they are winning, but bad because they're not learning anything knew. They're still the best team in the prefecture, and there's no foe able to stand in their way. 

For the tenth time in two hours, Wakatoshi's eyes glance over to where Tsutomu's standing. He’s hydrating himself, talking to Kawanishi and Hayato. Hayato's plays were marvelous, and he hasn't missed a single receive. Kawanishi's blocks are also top notch, cutting off their opponents skilled attacks without a hitch in his breath. Tsutomu's hopeful to get more tosses from Shirabu this set, but Shirabu is ignoring those pleas headed his way. Tsutomu blows out his cheeks and murmurs under his breath. Shirabu can't hear, but he gets the details, only goes by the sound of disgruntlement. 

"I won't toss to you because you're pouting."

Tsutomu sounds even more disappointed after that.

From this standpoint, Wakatoshi cannot see a single thing out of place. This is the Tsutomu he has seen every day; perfect cut hair, boisterous, eager, forward. Believing in his own abilities to be best, and hungry to grow stronger and surpass Wakatoshi. Whenever Tsutomu's notices Wakatoshi's observant eyes on him, he grins back as if a challenge has been issued. Tsutomu puts the bottle down in a way Satori has once called 'Dramatic!'. 

"I'll show you, Ushijima-san!" His voice booms, only topped by Washijou's angry remarks on form and speed. Exhaling through his nose, Wakatoshi's head turns from the scene. Unable to make out this feeling he has in his throat and fingers. It's not fatigue, or illness. It's not a bodily 'weakness', he thinks. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Wakatoshi's eyes glance towards the first year's table, where Tsutomu's laughing with the rest of his year-mates. He's energetic and filling the room with a good energy, keeping the morale of the ones not chosen for the team high. An excellent quality to have. 

"I saw black spots on Goshiki earlier. Do you happen to know what it is?" Wakatoshi has issues pulling his gaze away from Tsutomu's smile, even when his question addresses the person right in front of him. He's been taught to look people in the eye if he talks to them, however, and does so when Satori's silence beckons him to.

"Oh, Tsutomu's tattoo? It's a flying eagle. You didn't know?" Satori’s spoon hovers over his dinner as he talks, then puts it straight into his waiting mouth. He pauses, eyes closing halfway as he enjoys the taste. "A lot of people have been keeping an eye out for it lately. I think once it notices the gazes, it hides more out of sight. I'm wondering if Tsutomu-kun is conscious of it or not."

"Flying... You mean to say it moves?" Wakatoshi wonders out loud, hating to be inquisitive. Satori nods, then his head changes direction when another spoonful enters his mouth. Letting his head bob left and right, he hums before continuing their small talk. The way Satori moves when he's happy is a visual feeling Wakatoshi knows but wouldn't ever show or voice in the way Satori does. 

"Magical tattoos... they can do quite a lot of things. They move, communicate, change. Show emotions of the wearer, protect the wearer. It was quite a shock to see Tsutomu-kun have one, if I'm honest." Satori finishes his pudding, then looks around. His eyes scan other tables for the next meal. He smacks his lips once, then finds Wakatoshi's face again.

"I haven't talked to him about it, y'know. I felt... his tattoo wouldn't let me. It's quite protective and scary if you're getting too close, y'see? I wonder if it's mindful or others, or if Tsutomu-kun is, unconsciously."

That would explain the movement of ink Wakatoshi witnessed, then. He's not accustomed to magical qualities. As known as they are, it's rare to see it up close and in person. There have been news reports of fire breathing dragon tattoos burning down an inn, or mermaid ink rescuing one's wearer. One kid stung by a bee because it's flower tattoo bloomed in all sorts of colours when they were happy. Wakatoshi's imagination wouldn't have expected to meet a person who has a magical tattoo. He hadn’t seen one for himself.

"Quite unruly, if Tsutomu cannot control it. It would be bothersome if it distracts him, us, or our opponents during a match." Wakatoshi's voice keeps itself low and towards the table. Satori's spoon swirls in front of his nose, then points between his eyebrows. 

"Is that all, Wakatoshi-kun? Worried about that scenario seems a practical move for our team-captain..." 

"Should I be worried about anything else, then?" 

Satori taps his little spoon against his chin, eyeing Wakatoshi with one widened eye and a smaller, squinting one. 

"That's not for me to figure out for you," he says, spoon still at his chin. Satori's voice sounds graver and more serious than Wakatoshi has heard in the past years of knowing him. Why that should be, Wakatoshi does not know. Staring at Satori won't give him an answer, either. He has the haunting feeling of being left in the dark, while Satori has found the light and is unwilling to share it. 

"Anyway, Reon said that tattoos usually don't try to embarrass their wearers, so it should be fine. Of course our future ace has the tendency to over-do things and getting himself into trouble nonetheless." Satori turns around once more to watch Tsutomu, and Wakatoshi takes the excuse to allow himself to do the same.

Tsutomu's laughter has a ring happiness in it which makes him smile, for some reason.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The string of curses is audible throughout this half of the gymnasium. Their coaches act as if they don't hear them. Wakatoshi's eyes focus on who Shirabu points out as the ace on the other one's team. Hearing Tsutomu's distress turns his stomach, leaving it cold and empty eve though he had a good meal earlier. As a captain, he can understand the position; they're about to practice with a good team for once, and behind him, the first year who outshines his whole year, is having a breakdown. 

Satori had said it wouldn't be a problem. Reon had assured that it was all okay.

Yet when Wakatoshi turns his head towards Tsutomu, his tattoo flails wildly just below his knee-brace. Noticing Wakatoshi's eyes, Tsutomu curses again, apologizes, and turns around. He's ushering the tattoo to behave and hide, but the eagle changes places still visible for all to see across Tsutomu's right leg. 

"Suzuki, you're warmed up? You're taking Goshiki's place today." Washijou says without a hitch. He's not looking at Tsutomu at all. Half the team feels bad for their first year regular, and Wakatoshi has to control his own emotions. It's natural. Tsutomu can't play like this. It’s a fact as clear as day.

Yet the discontent doesn’t waver from his heart when he steps forward. When there’s so many other things he wants his body to do. Such as hug Tsutomu, keep him safe from the eyes and the whispers. They were the best team, and could only stay like this by adding the right ingredients, the strongest members. Today, Tsutomu wasn’t it.

Wakatoshi does not want to deal with that fact. 

 

He should say something. It's expected from him. A few bench members attempt to usher him away, but Wakatoshi's stare halts them in place. Tsutomu's red-faced, and his nostrils flare when he catches Wakatoshi's gaze. 

"Go outside and run. Calm yourself. You're no use to us in this state." 

Silence greets him. When he and Satori stand on their side of the court, he hears Hayato right behind him.

"Way too harsh, Toshi."

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The tattoo circles his faster beating heart. Invisible through the shirt, Tsutomu feels the fluttering of feathers, the scratching of claws. The state of unrest centers on his chest, when all he needed it to do was calm down. The agility and near frightened state had become worse over the course of the last few days. After Ushijima had noticed Tsutomu’s tattoo for the first time. 

It had been manageable after Tsutomu first saw Ushijima, had been a little annoying and distracting when Tsutomu made the team. But the stronger his emotions swirling the captain became week after week of training, the eagle on Tsutomu’s skin could not be swayed to stay in one place, or to even be decent enough to stay hidden. His grandfather had once explained how their magical tattoos were emotional guidelines, bearing wisdom what to do.

Tsutomu’s eagle tattoo was as young and restless as him, and it’s current state could be explained one way only; if Tsutomu wouldn’t give in to his feelings and voice them, his eagle would recklessly cross his skin, needing the attention and concern from the person Tsutomu’s infatuation was caused by.

Even if no one would agree, Tsutomu has an excellent control over his emotions. But what he keeps has the one outlet, which scurries in need of flight. 

Tsutomu ran faster, trying to outrun it all.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

A few days after Tsutomu’s breakdown, Wakatoshi is still met by the back of his kouhai. The club room has a heavy uncomfortable silence Satori, Hayato and Reon try to lift but are unable to banish. Eyes fly to Tsutomu when his shirt comes off over his head and arms. There is no sign of the black spot that haunts his skin. It’s nowhere to be found even after he’s done changing and leaves. Wakatoshi’s eyes follow him, less critical but all the same curious. 

Then he notices where the eagle has flown off to. Staring, Wakatoshi’s eyes draw to his wrist; wings wide, the eagle settles over his pulse, which in turn beats faster. The crossing over of magical tattoos has been unheard of, at least from what Satori told him. The behaviour was most unusual.

“Reon, do you have a sweatband?” Wakatoshi mutters, unable to lift his eyes from the blemish on his wrist. Reon walks over, saying he doesn’t, then stops when he sees it too. 

“I have a friend in the basketball team who might. I’ll be right back.” 

 

Once Wakatoshi is able to hide the stationary tattoo, he _hears_ it. A disappointed sound. Right from under the sweatband. 

Fact tells him he categorizes it as disappointment because he heard its tone before. Tsutomu’s pouting was an audible thing, 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

It takes Tsutomu 36 hours to notice. But once he notices, he's freaking out. First he thought his tattoo had flown off to his neck or back; finally appeased and understanding that Tsutomu’s build up of emotions were here to stay unuttered. But no one at school or in club mentioned it. Then he started to look behind himself in the mirror, trying to find the black spot of his eagle ink. He had been wanting to change it to a more line-art-ish, stylistic look, but the tattoo was nowhere to be found. 

In one embarrassing moment, Tsutomu has gone as far as making sure his ink wasn't on his ass. Shirabu and Kawanishi had walked in with Hayato. While the first two kept their questioning to themselves, Hayato had laughed out loud, feeling no shame in nakedness, but asking Tsutomu why the heck he was looking at his own glutes. 

Red in the face, Tsutomu stutters an answer about a new training regime, before he enters the baths after his senpai were done.

But even as the shame of being caught like that quiets down, Tsutomu cannot find his own freaking tattoo anywhere. He checks his arm pits and the soles of his feet last. It is gone. It wouldn't be under his hair, surely!? There was no reason to hide there. Tsutomu wouldn't shave to find out. He looks past his bangs and silky black hair. Nothing.

Breathing became harder with every hour the eagle was missing.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Wakatoshi finds Reon in the courtyard of their school. The black pools of eyes stare on a single page. Even when Wakatoshi's head blocks out the sun and casts a shadow on his friend, Reon doesn't look to him.

"Have you ever heard of the poem 'Five wings', Wakatoshi?"

"No." Wakatoshi's eyes glance over the page. Upside down, he can read the kanji of what Reon just said.

"A lot of people coming to Shiratorizawa don't know it, which is a shame. It's about five eagles; one eagle's wings broke, a second sang a war-song, the third one cried for love, the fourth one flew away, and the fifth one came to stay. That's the short version. They have different scenarios, poems and songs for all of them." Reon holds up a battered book. Wakatoshi sees Goshiki's family name in the corner. 

"Found it in his room and he let me borrow it. It comes from his family records, he told me. The members of the Goshiki household can create tattoos. Instead of ink, it comes at the expense putting their emotions into it. They carry them, visible to all if the tattoo wills it."

"Like carrying one's heart on one's sleeve." Wakatoshi adds, earning an approving nod from Reon.

"The tattoos signify emotions, as flighty or as steady as they come. The tattoo could be anything, but Goshiki says almost everyone in his family has at least an eagle. It's the easiest to create, and they are meant to signify growth. The stages change from person to person." Reon looks down at the book, thumbing away from the main poem. Wakatoshi doesn't read a lot apart from the things Satori shoves in his face. He would like to take a look at these writings. 

Standing up, Reon puts the book inside his bag, right where he keeps his journal and a recipe book. They walk side by side over the courtyard, and Wakatoshi gives Reon all his attention when he continues to share his wisdom. Solid facts Wakatoshi can wrap his hand around.

Unlike understanding why the eagle tattoo nestles in his elbow.

"Some run away from love, others get their heart broken first. The war-song stands for both the fight for love and the serenade to never give up. They say that the tattoo might find a final place to stay, once love is found or returned. Funny, isn't it?" 

Wakatoshi wouldn't approve of such unruliness on his own skin, or letting other people know things about him that he himself wouldn't understand. 'Funny' wouldn't be a word that came to mind. Especially because it’s Tsutomu’s tattoo. Something he made for himself. And now it haunts Wakatoshi. At least it had the decency to hide. 

Maybe Wakatoshi was hiding too, not confronting Tsutomu about the runaway ink.

"There's also... writings about tattoos that fly from one owner to the other. But no recordings as to what it means." Reon doesn’t look at him when he says it. Wakatoshi can count on one hand why Reon wouldn’t look at him when he speaks.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The eagle leaves marks. Wakatoshi checks his mirror image. His underarms scar with tiny black, inked crow feet scratches. They're not hurting, but Wakatoshi has caught his hand going to his chest more often in the past days. He touches the area on the left once more, but there's no evidence of physical pain. He feels it, though, and it starts to make him irritated. 

The crow ruffles its tiny feathers, leaving some to rest in a straight line to the side of his arm. Wakatoshi whispers to it.

"What do you want from me?" The ink becomes unmoving, unresponsive. Wakatoshi stares at his mirror image, and it stares back in confusion, offering no solution. There's a knock at his door, and Wakatoshi sighs as he pulls his long sleeved track top over his back and to hide the black irregularities on his arms. 

"Come in, the door's open."

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Tsutomu suffers. It has been more regular these days than before, and he thought that his emotions taking over had been bad enough already. Seeing Ushijima in his running shorts, bare feet, strong legs in between, and no shirt on while wearing his jersey uniform, unzipped... Tsutomu curses his head, his heart, and his treacherous body for feeling the way he does.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Ushijima-san," Tsutomu starts, his mouth wet with want, while his Adam's apple bobs up and down in hesitation. Ushijima is too awesome, his six pack having the hints of an eight pack forming, and his pecs are so... soft-looking and touchable. Tsutomu berates himself for staring, physically shaking his head. 

His entire female household had laughed at him when he gave the distressed call that his tattoo was gone. His grandfather had tried to explain that it was natural at this age, and that Tsutomu could figure out what it meant. He had lent Reon the book his family, full of poems and other wise ideas. He could not remember if it said anything about disappearing tattoos. 

“What is it, Goshiki?”

Tsutomu looks down to Ushijima’s feet. When the boys in his class talked about specific areas on the female body they liked, Tsutomu couldn’t mingle. He didn’t like girls that way, and if he had to choose one thing he liked about Ushijima, he wouldn’t be able to choose. 

“I may have to take tomorrow afternoon off from training. I- There’s something…” Turning his head, Tsutomu looks at the floor next to where Ushijima stands. “Surely you have heard of my… of my family’s inheritance. The tattoo I was unable to hide or control the other day, its’. It’s gone. I tried asking my family about it, but my parents were out and the rest haven’t been helpful.”

He hears movement, sees the feet coming forward. Tsutomu doesn’t know why he is anxious, but he can’t help but flinch when Ushijima touches his shoulder. The hand is gone right away, reaching beyond to close the door behind Tsutomu.

Trapping him against it. Nowhere else to look at but right in front of him, Ushijima’s perfect skin glinstering in the shadow of the hanging lamp behind it.

“So you don’t know how this happened?” Ushijima says, then rolls his sleeve up. Tsutomu feels his blood chill at the sight, his skin taut with fear. His eagle, his missing tattoo, perches at ease on Ushijima’s skin. A line of feathers and an onslaught of little lines in from of feet track all over Ushijima’s lower arm.

“I- what.” Tsutomu asks no one in particular, his voice light and uneasy. His hands shoot out without second though, and his thumbs brush over the refound tattoo. “Why didn’t you tell me!? This must have been shocking…” 

The intimacy doesn’t hit him until Ushijima takes an impossible step closer. Until his scent embraces Tsutomu, sure to drown him. He looks up, just in time to see Ushijima’s face soften for a moment. When he puts it back into the usual ploy, his hand reaches for Tsutomu’s face. Still and warm, covering his cheek, Ushijima’s thumb brushes under Tsutomu’s eye. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

First it felt as if the tattoo urges him forward. But when Wakatoshi’s skin heats up, and his veins sing with want, he cannot lie to himself anymore. The discontent of the unknown sways when it’s all so simple and in his face. When he knows, right with every beat of his heart, why he wants to touch Tsutomu. Why he needs to be nearer, to close the distance, and to not let go.

Tsutomu has the purest face, his eyes wide but without fear. 

The eagle shrieks, and Tsutomu’s face ducks for a moment to tell it off. Wakatoshi feels it’s feathers ruffle, feels the pull in his being, and his stuttering breath when he inhales. Facts pour in all at once, when Tsutomu apologizes for the inconvenience and his cheeks heat up under Wakatoshi’s touch.  
'State of unrest.'  
'The bird and Tsutomu sound the same.'  
'My heart hurts when he’s unhappy.'

Wakatoshi’s free hand, the one littered with more feathers now, takes Tsutomu's wrist. As clear as his mind is with what he wants to do, he notices the flight of ink from his skin back to Tsutomu's.

"May I kiss you, Goshiki?"

"W-what!?" Tsutomu's eyes widen again, and they move fast over Wakatoshi's features, looking for the lie. He licks his lips, an unconscious motion that digs into Wakatoshi’s guts as he watches the tongue slip past and over the mouth. Wakatoshi repeats his question, not moving an inch forward until he knows for sure that this is what Tsutomu wants. What the eagle has tried telling him all the time. 

"I would like to kiss you, and I have a feeling that you might want me to do so. Will you allow me?" Wakatoshi asks again, a strange, unsure sensation rising in the pit of his stomach. He’s never known fear. Now he’s afraid of rejection in any form or manner. 

Tsutomu's face changes. The frightened lines make way for resolution. A trembling mouth becomes firm. Where Tsutomu stands shaking at first, he's now as steady as before a toss, and he makes the final step. He reaches for Wakatoshi’s neck and pulls him down, down into the warmth and into his revolution. A roar goes off in Wakatoshi’s chest, and he feels his legs becoming unsteady under this new weight. 

As soon Tsutomu’s tongue brushes his mouth, Wakatoshi bows forward, leaning in and taking everything he can by moving his tongue past Tsutomu’s. Deepening the kiss heats him up like no training or victory has ever done. He has to hold Tsutomu's head and keep him still, so he can angle his own head and enjoy the vibration of tones, the louder noises their mouths make between breaths. 

“Oh, oh god.” Tsutomu whispers, his arms slung around Wakatoshi, searching and pulling without thought or plan. Wakatoshi’s eyes take in the blushing face, the half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t see the ink, and attempts to find it by undressing Tsutomu right then and there. As the shirt lifts, he sees the blossoming of ink, pouring from Tsutomu’s left chest side.

The eagle stays in one place, in the motion of taking flight, right across Tsutomu's heart. The tattoo is surrounded by a flurry of feathers that spread out to Tsutomu's shoulder, collarbone and ribcage. They’re everywhere, like an explosion that doesn’t stop. 

“I… I really like you, Ushijima Wakatoshi! Please consider going out with me.” Tsutomu says, and the feathers swirl in a circle back towards the eagle. Wakatoshi touches it once, feeling the warmth and love which mirrors his own. 

“Of course, Tsutomu.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

A date appears on Ushijima's wrist. April 18. He shows it to Tsutomu, who lies under him, wearing his boxershorts. 

"What's this?" 

Tsutomu’s mouth wobbles before he's able to reply. "The day I realized I have a crush on you."

Wakatoshi looks at the tattoo, wondering if it could be something else. Tsutomu touches it with one finger pad. The numbers swirl into lines, reforming themselves. When he takes his finger off, there's a few faint lines indicating a volleyball, and on both sides a line. It pulsates to the beat of Wakatoshi’s heart, a perfect echo. 

"Your love and mine, combined." Tsutomu says, looking up to Wakatoshi. "If it's too forward, I can erase it! My eagle can swallow it and-"

"No. I don't mind it. It's good." Wakatoshi says, smiling back at Goshiki. He bows down for a kiss, and doesn't stop until Tsutomu relaxes. He touches Tsutomu’s tattoo lying still over his heart, a place from which it hadn’t moved since their first kiss. Chuckling, Wakatoshi remembers the words Reon said, reciting them. 

"And this eagle came to stay."

**Author's Note:**

> I re-read this before uploading and thought at the end 'oh wow, I totally wrote them as if they were about to do it...'
> 
> I'm slowly making progress on all my ushigoshi wips~ Thank you so much for giving this a read and let's hope I write/finish my fics faster in the new year 8D


End file.
